


carefully, a flame

by Camellia Cook (thekurosakiconundrum)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Feelings, Hand Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Soft Kylux, Somnophilia, just a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekurosakiconundrum/pseuds/Camellia%20Cook
Summary: It was fascinating, how different his face looked in sleep. Hux’s default expression had a slightly pinched look to it, stressed and angry, mean, but in sleep, he just looked normal. Like he could be anyone. He didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer, or like a madman who gave speeches to mark the deaths of billions. His mouth was a little open, and he was lying on his side, drooling slightly. His hair had come ungelled from Kylo’s fingers last night, and now it was a disorganized bird’s nest against the pillow.It was… cute.





	carefully, a flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kyluxtrashcompactor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/gifts).



> Title from the poem "Variations on the Word Sleep" by Margaret Atwood

Kylo lay on his back, his head turned to one side, studying Hux’s sleeping face. It was so strange to see him like, so soft and relaxed. He didn’t really know how he felt about it, whether he was charmed or unnerved; it was too new to tell. They’d been fucking for months now, but this was only the third time he’d ever seen Hux sleeping, and the first time he’d been able to examine him at leisure. Hux never lingered, afterwards, gathering up his clothes while Kylo was still catching his breath, leaving him to his pleasant sleep or his bout of existential dread, whichever happened to be his post-sex mood that day.

Last night, though, Hux had fallen asleep, worn out by a long day and hours of Kylo’s attentions. Since there was no one awake to see it, he didn’t try to hide how smug he felt about that, how pleased he was to have left Hux too well-fucked to return to his quarters. Hux, despite his fastidious nature, had fallen asleep right where he lay without so much as getting up for a quick wash. He was very nearly in the same spot now.

It was fascinating, how different his face looked in sleep. Hux’s default expression had a slightly pinched look to it, stressed and angry, mean, but in sleep, he just looked normal. Like he could be anyone. He didn’t look like a cold-blooded killer, or like a madman who gave speeches to mark the deaths of billions. His mouth was a little open, and he was lying on his side, drooling slightly. His hair had come ungelled from Kylo’s fingers last night, and now it was a disorganized bird’s nest against the pillow.

It was… cute. Sleeping Hux was cute. Waking Hux puffed himself up, squaring his shoulders, pushing them forward with his hands behind his back when he walked to make himself look bigger. Chin up, chest out, back ramrod straight—the only other time Kylo got to see him this relaxed was after he’d worked him through two climaxes and had him halfway to a third, mewling and oversensitive, letting Kylo move him around however he wanted, clinging to his neck as Kylo held his hips and worked him up and down on his cock.

Mm. Kylo shifted restlessly, remembering how it felt to do exactly that just last night. So good… It seemed like every time they did this, it got better. Hux was incredibly tense the first few times, but now he was shameless, greedy for pleasure and eager to give it in return. For his own part, he was learning Hux a little more each time, his sensitive spots, the buttons to push, how to speed him up, slow him down; how to make him go boneless and pliant or spur him into feverish action. The slow revelation of knowledge, building on what you learned until you achieved mastery, had always been one of Kylo’s favorite things.

Especially when the result was as magnificent as Hux was when he was overcome by pleasure.

He wanted that again, wanted it always, wanted it now. He wanted to see Hux, to see all of him and touch him everywhere. Should he wake him up? He was loath to—the man slept too little, and Kylo needed him functional. He ought to let him rest until it was almost time for his shift. Hux might be annoyed with him, too, for waking him up early. Maybe he’d refuse to do anything. It was clearly the thing to do to let him sleep… But Kylo wanted him, and he couldn’t stand having him in his bed and not being able to touch.

Just a little. He’d touch Hux just a little. Kylo reached out tentatively, settling his hand gently on Hux’s exposed shoulder, sighing softly just from the feel of it, from the relief of skin on skin. Hux shifted slightly when Kylo ran his hand down his arm, but otherwise didn’t respond. It was almost like touching a doll, but warm and alive and _Hux._ He shifted closer, lying inches away on his side, curled into a mirror of Hux’s position, watching his face for any sign of wakefulness as he encircled Hux’s thin forearm with his hand, thumbing over the inside of his wrist, stroking the fine, old scars there that he’d never asked Hux to explain and never would.

His heart was beating too fast. There was something fascinating about this, the freedom to do as he would combined with the imperative that he not wake Hux. He could hardly believe that soft, pliant creature was the Hux he knew, the Grand Marshal, the military commander of the whole First Order. He was so vulnerable like this—Hux was always vulnerable to him, but he never acknowledged it, never let either of them see it. Kylo forgot, sometimes, about the delicacy of him; when they were together, he didn’t think of how easily he would break apart if Kylo so chose. Like this, it was so clear, and impossible to ignore: Hux’s skin like fine porcelain and long, pale lashes like spun glass, fragile and beautiful.

He curled a hand around Hux’s hip, tracing the curve of it with his palm, so lightly, more lightly than he’d ever touched Hux before. That was part of Hux’s rebellion against his own fragility: he never allowed himself to be touched like this. He insisted, always, on Kylo’s hands too tight and his mouth biting hard enough to bruise, and he bit and scratched and fucked Kylo for all he was worth in return. But this was good, too, for all Hux denied it. Kylo wanted more, wanted to touch him all over, trace every blue vein with his fingertips, connect every freckle with his tongue. He wanted this soft, sleeping Hux to belong to him the same way the fiery waking one was beginning to, and it seemed only fitting to claim him with softness.

As gently as he could, he rolled Hux onto his back, his heart doing a weird little thing and his dick twitching at the sight of Hux’s small wriggle, the soft huffing sound he made. Waking, every move Hux made was artifice, each gesture carefully calculated for maximum impact; even when he was half-blind with pleasure, he would tip his head to show off his best angle or moan just-so, like an actor in a high-class holoporn. To see him like this, wholly unselfconscious, was unexpectedly, devastatingly erotic.

Kylo started to draw the covers back but then thought better of it, tugging them up to Hux’s chin and slipping his hands back underneath instead, spreading his fingers wide over Hux’s breastbone, sweeping a thumb along his delicate collarbone, sliding down the center of his chest, delighting in the softness and warmth of his skin. It had been months, but he wasn’t over this; maybe would never be over this. It felt _so good_ to simply touch Hux.

He wanted to do it all the time. He had to stop himself daily, multiple times a day, from reaching for him in meetings, on the bridge, addressing their troops. He suspected Hux felt the same, both of them starved for human contact, even though Hux hid it better. But now, like this, he could touch Hux all he wanted. There was no one to object, not even Hux, who could be prickly and resistant to any touch that held no demand, that seemed too openly affectionate. So touch he did, all over, his narrow chest, his slightly soft belly, the tops of his thighs. His wiry arms and Kylo’s personal obsession, his fine-boned wrists, their delicate insides that he wasn’t quite at the right angle to kiss.

Growing bold, he rubbed a fingertip in tiny circles over one of Hux’s nipples, freezing when the touch elicited a soft whuffing whine. He didn’t want to wake him, but, he couldn’t resist, so he ducked down under the covers, bending his head to mouth at the same nipple he’d just been toying with. He didn’t dare bite—that was Hux’s favorite, but it was sure to wake him up and Kylo didn’t want that. Instead he licked and sucked lightly, feeling the small bud grow taut and hard, the areola pebbled, listening to Hux’s breathing change, taking on a heavy, almost-voiced quality.

This felt forbidden, transgressive. Sacrilegious, almost, like he was trespassing in some temple he was yet too much a novice to visit. Sleeping Hux felt like something he shouldn’t be allowed to see, let alone touch, but then, Kylo had always been eager for forbidden knowledge.

It wasn’t actually forbidden, of course, or he wouldn’t be doing it—he was an asshole and he’d made his peace with that, but he wasn’t about to touch someone sexually without their permission. No, Hux had explicitly allowed this, encouraged it even. True to efficiency-mad, paperwork-fetishizing form, he’d made them both fill out this stupid kriffing questionnaire not long after they’d started fooling around, checking little boxes to rate kinks on a scale of zero to five—this had been a four for Hux.

It had been a zero for Kylo. Touching him in his sleep was a good way to get killed, and frankly it amazed him that Hux trusted him with that, even then. Perhaps it didn’t matter for him, knowing that he was just as defenseless against Kylo awake. He had never planned on taking him up on it; at the time, the idea had seemed entirely unappealing.

But that had been before. ( _Before what,_ he asked himself, but let the question go unanswered.) Now, he could kiss his skin as softly as he pleased, sucking delicately at his nipple while he stroked his other hand down Hux’s side, feeling out the contours of waist and hip that he so enjoyed, the same soft curve that made Hux self-conscious, made him shy away. Now, he could touch freely, explore Hux’s body without making him worry that he would lose face. He could mouth his way down over every one of Hux’s ribs, counting them with his tongue; he could let his hands linger over his hipbones, rubbing over and over their sharp points with his thumbs.

He liked the way Hux’s skin smelled under the blankets, warm with sleep, slightly spicy from his cologne but not especially clean; not clean at all, really, with traces of last night’s sweat and their sex still clinging to him and to the sheets. He liked it; stars, he liked it, smelling what he’d done to him. Knowing that if he were to reach a hand between Hux’s legs, he’d… well, he’d probably wake him up, but if he didn’t, he’d find him still wet with Kylo’s come.

A smile fought its way onto his face and for once he let it, pressing it into the concave softness of Hux’s belly, secretly delighting in this rare freedom to look like an idiot in Hux’s presence and not have him see. Hux, for his part, wriggled and made a little huffing noise as Kylo nosed at his bellybutton, the ghost of a laugh—was he ticklish here?

He was suddenly and terribly curious, but he didn’t want to wake him up. He was on a mission, after all. He’d decided that he wanted Hux to wake up already halfway to coming; he wanted to see him open sleepy, pleasure-drugged eyes. Wanted the first sound he made today to be a muddled, half-awake moan.

It was warm and dark and humid under the covers; there wasn’t quite enough air, but Kylo didn’t mind. It was like everything was Hux, everything was touch and taste and scent—he could bury his nose in the space between Hux’s balls and thigh, inhale his scent without having to worry about looking strange or making Hux turn red and awkward, worrying about whether he was clean enough. Hux’s pubes were softer and less wiry than Kylo’s, fuzzy and oddly amusing under his tongue as he licked his way over to Hux’s cock.

It was still mostly soft, perhaps a little chubby in response to Kylo’s explorations. This, too, was a novelty—Hux was easily aroused, got hard at the drop of a hat, and never took his pants off before he was completely ready. Perhaps it was out of some fear of vulnerability, perhaps it was out of a misguided self-consciousness about his size. It was a shame; Kylo liked Hux’s cock, whatever state it was in. It wasn’t big, possibly it was even a bit small as these things went, but he liked it.

Hux shifted restlessly and made a soft, slurred sound of pleasure when Kylo took it in his mouth, but did not wake. A slow, warm wave of arousal rolled over Kylo at the feel of it, soft and spongy, pliable. It was musky-tasting and a little bitter with the traces of last night’s come—Hux would be appalled, that Kylo had put his mouth on him before he’d even had a shower. But Kylo didn’t care, and Hux wasn’t in a position to object, all of him soft and warm and still sleeping.

That any part of Hux could be like this, so small and unassuming, so easy to take in, so easy to move around, squishing this way and that with his lips and tongue—that, too, felt like forbidden knowledge. He suckled it gently, drawing another disorganized, unselfconscious little moan from Hux.

Though Kylo liked the much-too-much stretch of his lips and the way Hux cut off his breath when he sucked him off normally, he thought that he liked this, too; liked to play with it, sucking the foreskin up over the head and then slipping his tongue into the space he’d made. It was kind of… fun. He’d always had a bit of an oral fixation, sucking on pens and drinking straws, moving them around with his tongue, probing at the shape of them. Hux’s soft cock was like that, only better.

Hux seemed to like it, as well, his sleeping body giving away his reactions even better than his waking one, all restless twitches of his hips and great sighing breaths, his hands shifting at his sides as if even in his sleep he wanted to grab Kylo’s hair as he so often did. There was already more of him than there'd been when he started, Hux’s cock filling and firming as his breathing grew louder and more ragged, interspersed with little barely-voiced _nn!_ noises that Kylo had never heard before, that Hux must usually suppress. Kylo wished he wouldn’t do that. They were good, honest sounds, soft and human.

Under here, there was nothing else to focus on but the feel of Hux’s cock hardening in his mouth and the smoothness of his skin, slightly damp now with sweat under his hands. It was too hot, but Kylo didn’t mind it, sweating as he gave himself over to his task, working Hux to full hardness with deft, gentle strokes of his tongue. The reality of Hux becoming aroused for him always struck him breathless, but like this, immediate, _unmediated_ , filling his senses and happening in real time, it was almost unbearably erotic. Even sleeping, Hux’s body responded to his touch. Hux got hard _for him,_ and Kylo couldn’t get enough.

It didn’t take long. Before he knew it, before he could fully appreciate each intermediary stage, Hux’s cock was stiff and full in his mouth, too much now for him to take in all at once. But he knew how to do this, knew just how Hux liked it from this point on, had learned the long, languid pulls at first and spot that always made him gasp and jerk when he tongued it, in the groove below the head of his cock, just left of center.

Sleeping Hux cried out softly instead of just gasping when he tried it, deliciously unrestrained, and the sound went straight between Kylo’s legs, making him roll his hips against the mattress, needing friction. He did it again, drawing out a louder sound and a burst of salt on his tongue.

Want roiled in Kylo’s belly, building. He loved this, loved the taste of him, loved the way he could draw out so many different reactions with just his mouth. He had done this, made Hux so hard and wet, and that knowledge wasn’t forbidden but it wasn’t something he was supposed to dwell on, either, how much he enjoyed this. How just thinking of the slick, salty feeling of Hux’s precome on his tongue was enough to have him half-hard in the middle of the afternoon; how the delicacy of Hux’s skin here drove him crazy. It wasn’t dignified or manly to like sucking cock this much, but Kylo did, loved everything about it, from the smell of it, changing and growing stronger as Hux grew more and more aroused, to the stray strands of coarse, fuzzy hair that ticked his face.

Like this, with Hux still asleep, he could give himself over to it without fear of Hux seeing, without giving _him_ too much forbidden knowledge. Hux knew, of course, at least in part—he commented on it often enough, but that was just banter, just dirty talk, you-love-it-don’t-you without any understanding of the degree to which Kylo did.

Hux shifted, his hips bucking up, artless and eager like nothing Kylo had ever seen from him before. Usually, when he fucked Kylo’s mouth, he was cruel, too fast and too rough, fingers tight in Kylo’s hair. That, or he held himself still, lounging in his desk chair like it was a throne and letting Kylo service him. He wasn’t complaining; he got off on it, but the contrast between that and this was inexplicably devastating, making Kylo’s chest go tight and his eyes squeeze shut as he picked up the pace, needing some kind of outlet for his sudden surge of feeling.

Maybe he made some kind of noise, or maybe the quicker pace and harder suction were enough to wake Hux, but suddenly cool air and light flooded over him as Hux lifted the covers enough to peer down at him, sleepy-eyed and bedheaded, his mouth open and slack, everything Kylo had hoped to see this morning. Kylo wished nonsensically that he had two mouths—he wanted to kiss him while he looked like that. He ached with it suddenly, too full of wanting.

They stared at each other, Kylo slowing his pace but not stopping. For all he’d enjoyed their absence, the feeling of Hux’s eyes on him was incredible. He looked almost bewildered, pleasure undisguised on his face; he wore no facade of masterly indulgence nor any mask of artfully slutty, carefully-controlled sensuality. He was just a man getting his dick sucked first thing in the morning and enjoying the hells out of it.

Kylo held his gaze, thrilling at the attention, showing off a little, pushing his lips out and taking Hux as deep as he could, the head of his cock nestled between the back of his throat and tongue as he swallowed around him. Hux cursed, his head falling back as dropped the blanket, leaving Kylo alone in the warm, close dark.

Then it was bright and cool again, the covers flung off, Hux’s fingers were reaching for him, scrabbling at his shoulders and tangling in his hair, pulling him up. Kylo let him, letting his cock fall from his mouth with a wet smack against his belly, slightly perturbed at being forcibly relocated before his task was done but willing to go wherever Hux led.

Hux pulled him all the way up and claimed his mouth, rolling him onto his back and kissing him breathless. It was sweet and slick and overwhelming, with none of Hux’s usual studied finesse, the taste of precome and sleep and Hux’s skin smearing between them. Hux kissed him like he wanted to crawl into his mouth, possessive and delighted; reckless.

“Morning, Ren,” he said, and Kylo could feel his smile because he’d only pulled back the absolute minimum distance needed to speak, his lips brushing against Kylo’s.

“Morning, Hux,” he replied, settling his hands around Hux’s hips and pulling him as close as he could, rocking up to meet him.

Hux kissed him again, reaching down to tug Kylo’s sleep pants—he hated sleeping naked—out of the way, awkward and hasty, clumsy with sleep as he gathered both of them in one delicate hand, squeezing them together. Kriff, but he loved Hux’s hands, so slender and deft, so pale and soft from always being wrapped up in those stupid sexy gloves. He didn’t know which excited him more, the feel of the leather or the feel of his skin, but just now he wouldn’t have traded the feel of Hux’s naked hand, too small for the task he’d set it, for anything.

He felt so good, perfect, his cock hot and hard and slick with spit but his body soft and sleepy-warm, draped over him as he rocked his hips in an uneven, urgent rhythm. He was making these little sounds against Kylo’s mouth, short whines in the back of his throat, so soft that Kylo more felt than heard them. Hux had never made them before in his presence and Kylo instantly adored them, wanted to hear that soft, honest pleasure every day.

Hux’s hand wasn’t doing much but holding their cocks together, but that was good, that was plenty—this way, they could rock and grind against each other, hot and slippery as they made out like the world was going to end, hungry and with an edge of desperation, but still so gentle, still so sweet, overwhelming but not hasty or harsh. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to get enough of Hux’s soft lips smearing slickly against his, his tongue in Kylo’s mouth, licking at him without any artifice.

Before long, Hux’s chest was heaving, and he broke away to lean his forehead against Kylo’s, hips snapping, obviously close. His eyes were closed but Kylo’s were open, drinking in the spread of his beautiful, translucent lashes against the thin, too-dark skin below his eyelids, the faintest possible hint of freckles across his nose, the few, faint scars from childhood illness or teenage acne that marred his cheeks, the perfect bow of his upper lip, half-obscured by his nose.

A loud, helpless _ah!_ ripped its way out of Hux’s chest and Kylo surged up, kissing his open mouth, one hand crushing the sleep-tangled hair at the back of his head as he held on, kissing Hux while he came, while he spilled warm and copious over Kylo’s belly, turning the space between them hot and liquid, impossibly good against his skin, against his cock, coating him with it as Hux thrust against him.

It was the first time he’d ever kissed Hux through his orgasm, but Kylo swore, half-delirious, that it wouldn’t be the last—it was fantastic, messy, a fantastic mess; Hux’s lips were soft and slack but his tongue was tangled with Kylo’s, and they were both breathing through their mouths, slipping air back and forth between them as Hux’s desperate little sounds turned soft and sated and Kylo pressed up hard against him, needing.

Hux pulled back eventually, opening his sea-after-the-storm eyes and shifting his grip so that his hand was wrapped only around Kylo, suddenly tight, almost too tight, leaving him barely able to slip through Hux’s fist, just the way he liked best. Kylo stared up at him, wide eyed and panting. This was enough; it was entirely enough, he never wanted to feel anything else but this, Hux’s hands on him, Hux’s weight on top of him—

He held Kylo’s gaze, watching as he began to fall apart, and he murmured, “Come for me, Kylo.”

So he did, the sudden shock of his chosen name on Hux’s lips striking him like lightning, lighting him up, leaving him too full, overflowing. His eyes were open, locked on Hux’s, and he was too stunned to even cry out, his mouth open but all his breath and voice caught in his too-tight throat. It was too good, too much for one person to contain, Hux was watching him, and his eyes had gone all—something—lost their meanness—and Kylo could feel—he could feel—

Hux kissed him and he could breathe again, his breaths rising and falling against Hux’s skinny chest, their rhythm restored, suffusing his whole body as he rolled his hips in time with them. The strange, exultant moment passed, and it was just an orgasm, a damn good one, but ordinary, the same feeling he’d had a million times. Except when Hux pulled back again his eyes were clear of sleep but had yet to regain their cruelty, full of something he would call affection if he didn’t know better.

But he did, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shaping the exhale into a satisfied sigh. Hux rolled off him, wiping his hand on the sheet. The two of them lay like that for a while, not touching but feeling like they were, catching their breaths, letting the air cool their overheated bodies.

After a while, Hux sat up, Kylo watching as he blinked blearily and scrubbed at his hair with one hand.

“I… need to go. My shift starts in an hour,” Hux said. He wasn’t looking at Kylo now, his posture hunched and awkward.

Kylo replied, “Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say. He thought he ought to say something, but he had no idea what.

“Okay,” Hux echoed, not moving to get up.

Another thirty seconds passed, and then Hux sighed and levered himself up, gathering his clothes.

“I’llseeyoutonight?” Kylo blurted out, all at once, unable to help it. Stars-dammit, he had no intention of doing any such thing, coming off so needy. But there it was.

Hux looked at him, his eyes back to normal but lips twitching up just slightly. “Yes, Ren. You’ll see me tonight.”

Good. That was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? Leave a comment or reblog [this photoset!](https://camellia-cook.tumblr.com/post/178228131638/carefully-a-flame-soft-kylux-canon)
> 
>  
> 
> xoxo


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